


Anhedonia

by venis_envy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Comfort, Established Relationship, Frottage, Impotence, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Porn With Plot, imperfect sex, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venis_envy/pseuds/venis_envy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles nods, rubs his other hand over the back of his neck as his eyes dart around the room. “It’s...you know, the nogitsune didn’t exactly do his part to take care of this body while he was in it.” There’s a little bit of bitterness in Stiles’ tone, but more determination. “I only just started taking my Adderall again. Abruptly stopping that sort of medication can cause a few adverse side effects.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anhedonia

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Mating Games reject for week three's challenge: Non-penetrative sex.
> 
> It was written as my "backup plan," since my first one went a little over the maximum word count. And then this happened, ending at more than double the required 750 word limit, so I'm just posting this on its own instead.
> 
> Many thank yous to my vamp. Hope you all enjoy :)

"I don't want you to fuck me," Stiles says between ragged breaths, and Derek tilts his head, gaze focused as he tries to hash out whether he imagined the _don't_ part. 

"Not yet. Not now," Stiles continues, his hips still rocking against Derek's. 

Derek nods, though he doesn't fully understand, and leans in to kiss him again, hot and slick and tasting of _need_ he's sure isn't his alone. 

Stiles doesn’t explain further, just continues to rut against Derek, both of them fully clothed, until Derek is gasping and coming, panting against Stiles’ neck.

…

“It isn’t you,” Stiles says, and Derek raises his eyebrows, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Maybe he hasn’t experienced this particular conversation on a firsthand level, but he isn’t stupid; he knows what it means.

Derek worried about Stiles after the nogitsune, worried about his safety and sanity both. He could see that Stiles was wholly himself, though, his aura back to the hazy red-orange glow of self-control that Derek recognizes from before. He didn’t intend for this thing to start between them. Not yet, anyway. But Stiles has had this new sieze-the-moment philosophy on life, and who is Derek to deny that?

“Don’t give me that look, Derek. That’s not what I’m getting at.”

The floor is hard beneath Derek’s knees, but he needs to be close to Stiles where he’s perched at the edge of the bed. Stiles offers him a little half-smile he’s sure is meant to be reassuring, combs his fingers through Derek’s hair, and Derek shifts forward to rest his cheek on Stiles’ thigh, unreasonably relieved.

“Ever heard of anhedonia?”

Derek narrows his eyes in consideration. "No."

Stiles doesn’t stop running his fingers through Derek’s hair. “I want to be close to you all the time, wanna be with you in _all_ the ways, but…”

Derek’s grip tightens on Stiles’ hips, hating himself for what that “but” does to him. Stiles must recognize the tension, too.

“Derek,” he says, tugging gently on Derek’s hair, encouraging him to raise his head. “I _want_ you,” he says when Derek’s eyes meet his. “Do you get that? Like, trust me, that is in _no way_ the problem.”

Derek’s thumbs drag against Stiles’ jeans, and he can’t really tell if the petting motion is more to calm himself, or encourage Stiles to continue.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Stiles says, his own fingertips tracing the angle of Derek’s jaw. “I don’t think you have any idea.”

Derek swallows hard. “Anhedonia,” he says, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

Stiles nods, rubs his other hand over the back of his neck as his eyes dart around the room. “It’s...you know, the nogitsune didn’t exactly do his part to take care of this body while he was in it.” There’s a little bit of bitterness in Stiles’ tone, but more determination. “I only just started taking my Adderall again. Abruptly stopping that sort of medication can cause a few adverse side effects.”

“Okay.” Derek gets that, but still isn’t entirely sure where Stiles is going with this.

“Anhedonia is the inability to feel pleasure.”

Derek’s eyes widen, and Stiles’ cheeks tinge pink with embarrassment as his eyes dart away again, heart thrumming rapidly. 

“It isn’t permanent. Once the medication works its way back into my system, it’ll balance out...anyway,” his gaze meets Derek’s again. “It _does_ make me feel good to make _you_ feel good. So, even if I can’t entirely enjoy the things we do, I still want that. All of it.”

He tugs at Derek’s biceps until Derek is climbing up onto the bed beside him, wringing his hands in his lap. Stiles wraps his fingers around Derek’s, pulls their joined hands back into his space and kisses the tip of Derek’s finger.

Derek feels the heat of arousal coil inside him just from Stiles’ touch, and it makes him feel guilty. He doesn’t know how to take without giving back.

“Will you let me?” Stiles leans into Derek’s space, kisses the side of his neck. “Please,” he whispers against Derek’s skin, causing a shiver to run through him. He wants to agree, to tell Stiles he can do whatever he wants to him, but he can’t seem to find his voice. “I just wanna make you feel good.”

Stiles shifts on the bed, straddles Derek’s thighs and presses a kiss to his mouth. Derek can taste the want on his tongue, knows it isn’t imagined. He nods and Stiles presses him back into the mattress, leaning down over him and licking a hot stripe up the side of Derek’s neck.

He slots his thigh between Derek’s legs, drags against Derek’s hard dick, sucking a mark into his neck as he rocks into him.

It doesn’t take long, with Stiles grinding against Derek’s erection, kissing him desperately and whispering filthy promises into Derek’s ear about _soon_ , and Derek feels his orgasm building. His muscles are bunched and tight with anticipation, and then Stiles licks into his mouth, drags his whole body against Derek’s front, from chest to thighs, and Derek is gasping, whimpering into the kiss as his orgasm rushes through him.

…

He may not currently be capable of physical pleasure, but Derek knows Stiles _does_ enjoy things. Not just from him saying so. Derek can tell by the way Stiles’ scent changes just slightly when he’s kissing him, by the uptick of his heartbeat while their hands and mouths are exploring each other’s bodies. He knows by the way Stiles pins him to the bed, grinding against Derek or jerking him off and begging him to come, his eyes glossy and bright.

“I wanna try something,” Stiles says one night while they’re lying in bed together, tangled in sheets and nothing else.

Stiles traces the line of Derek’s dick through the sheet, blunt fingernail scratching gingerly up the vein on the underside. Derek squeezes his eyes shut and just enjoys the sensation of being touched by Stiles, being wanted.

Stiles kisses the underside of his jaw. “Will you let me?”

Derek nods. 

Stiles moves away, fumbling around in the drawer of his bedside table, and then tugs the sheet down off of Derek’s hips. A cool wash of air caresses his dick, and Derek flinches a little before Stiles is wrapping a slick, warm hand around him.

This isn’t new. Stiles has given Derek handjobs before, and Derek _loves_ it, loves the way Stiles’ long fingers wrap around him, tight and sure.

But then Stiles’ hand is gone and he’s shifting up the bed, lying beside Derek and looking at him with an expression of desire and determination.

“I want you to use me, Derek.”

Derek doesn’t know how to respond to that. He already feels like he uses Stiles more than he should. “I’m not fucking you until I know you’re going to enjoy it,” he replies, dragging a hand up Stiles’ bare back.

“You don’t have to fuck me to use me. And I _do_ enjoy it.” He leans in to kiss Derek, tongue sliding between parted lips.

Stiles rolls to his side, facing away, and reaches back to pull Derek’s arm over his waist.

“Don’t make me beg,” Stiles says.

Derek kisses his shoulder, his neck, noses at that spot behind Stiles’ ear. His cock is slippery with lube, and fits easily against the crack of Stiles’ ass. Stiles cants his hips back, causing more friction and eliciting a groan from Derek.

Everything is hot, from the smooth skin of Stiles’ back arching into Derek’s chest, to the slide of his ass pressing back against Derek’s dick. It’s so good, and Derek just closes his eyes, savors the sensation of Stiles pressed tightly against him, and rocks his hips. 

Stiles reaches back between them, shifts himself around a bit until Derek’s cock is pressed between his thighs, and Derek hisses in a sharp breath at the pleasure of this new sensation, of being wrapped in the heat of Stiles’ body without actually being _inside_ him. Stiles rocks back again, his hand curving around Derek’s hip. 

“Just like that,” he says, and the pitch of his voice crackles on Derek’s skin like static in the air. “God, Derek, I can’t wait until you’re inside me.”

Derek’s lips part on a moan he presses into Stiles’ shoulder, teeth scraping against skin.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Stiles lifts his hand to tangle in Derek’s hair, tugging gently, encouragingly.

“Fuck,” Derek breathes. He kisses Stiles’ neck, hand pressed flat to his lower belly to hold him close as he continues to thrust.

The head of his cock presses into Stiles’ balls, drags against his perineum, and Stiles moans, tells Derek how hard his dick is, and how much he wants it, wants Derek to come on him, to cover him with it.

Derek’s release pulses out of him, hot and slick, and he keeps fucking into Stiles’ thighs, slipping in and out of the tight space until it’s too much for him and he has to force himself to stop.

Stiles fumbles for Derek’s hand, brings it down to cover his own dick. He’s almost completely hard, and Derek strokes him, caresses the satiny skin, enjoying the weight of it in his hand.

 _Soon,_ he thinks, kissing Stiles’ temple, his cheek, and then his mouth as Stiles turns to meet him halfway.


End file.
